UNBECOMING

Heer every room I walk into is still not big enough.
I stretch my arms and feel the walls tug at me gently. 
Let’s just say my childhood never happened. Or that
I’m only scared but my mother thinks I’m dying.
This is love too, but the only words that come out 
of my mouth are I’m sorry. There are so many things
that I’ve forgotten to tell you–– I’m laughing at the man
who insisted I go down on him because I let him buy me
a drink. I fell from the trees once. It made a loud thud. 
He doesn’t know that either. I’m laughing because I’m 
told I’m pretty that way. I’m filthy from all this laughing, 
you could hear me from across the hall, my voice near 
desperate. Heer how far I’ve come without my mother
telling me Don’t sleep with boys until you’re married to them. 
My crush kept visiting me in my dreams. I fell in love
with her but that was a dream too. I kissed the pavement
instead and ran home. On the phone I tell my mother a 
love story. She grows silent when I finally tell her I’m not
coming back. She cries and hangs up soon after. I’m 10
minutes away from the river to find god standing where
once I stood, awake and lifeless. So I fled.
It is always morning & still death.

Tanya "JADE VINE" Singh is an Indian trans/non-binary writer, poet, and editor. Their work has appeared in Gone Lawn, Minola Review, Polyphony H.S, and elsewhere, and has been recognized by the Times of India and Bow Seat Ocean Awareness Student Contest, among other places. They are deeply inspired by the transformative justice movement and the politics of indispensability.

Artwork by Simone Hadebe